Bound (7 page)

Trembling, Kira picked up the Crystor and
held it in her hand. The chill it brought while coiled in her palm
sent a shiver up her arm, as if its powers already seeped into her
skin. When Octavion held it, the charm simply settled into the
creases of his hand, then stopped, perfectly satisfied with being
still, its silver remaining vibrant and cool. But in Kira’s hand,
it seemed restless—as if it searched for something to cling to,
changing from silver to red, then to a shimmering light blue. She
closed her fingers around it in hopes it would relax, but instead,
it warmed, sending a spark up the length of her arm and into her
head. She cried out when the pain met the base of her skull.

“Kira, no!” Octavion yelled, his gaze locked
on the tiny strand of silver that crept out from under Kira’s
fingertips and found its place around her wrist. Both ends
unraveled into several fine silver threads that came to life,
seeking out the other until the bracelet intertwined the two ends
together and tightened, leaving barely a finger’s width between it
and her skin.

An instant later, Octavion cradled her
against his chest—more gently than she would have ever thought
possible. But it gave little comfort and no relief to the pain.

Kira felt as though ice raced through her
veins as the skin around her wrist burned cold. The tiny sparks
she’d felt before exploded like bolts of lightning, shooting up her
arm and radiating throughout her entire body. Her muscles ached and
her head felt as though her skull had been crushed.

As Kira’s body began to shake uncontrollably,
a second surge of pain rippled through her, this time radiating out
through the tips of her fingers. She pushed Octavion away, thinking
his embrace was what had caused it. She clenched her fists and drew
them into her stomach, hoping the pressure of her body would help
ease the pain. Instead, it only worsened. She gasped a ragged
breath, then fell forward onto her knees.

“Help me. I . . . can’t make it . . .
stop.”

Octavion lifted her chin with his fingers.
“Kira, I need to see your eyes.”

She tried to obey, but even the tiny bit of
light from the candles caused searing pain. “I can’t.”

He took her face in his hands. “Yes, you can.
Try taking deep breaths. Focus on the pain and will it away.”

At first, she fought him, trying to pull his
hands away from her face, but then she felt their warmth easing the
pain in her head. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
He was right. With each breath, the intensity seemed to lessen.

“Again,” he ordered.

She gripped his massive shoulders to steady
herself and tried again. This time, the warmth coming from his
hands not only took the pain, but replaced it with a strange
feeling of euphoria. It was as though she floated on a cloud. She
tried opening her eyes again, surprised at what she saw. The look
of concern on Octavion’s face mirrored the one he’d given his
sister. And for the first time since meeting him, she could read
his eyes. He cared for her—a lot. It didn’t make sense. If he was
so eager to sacrifice her life to save Lydia’s, why the
concern?

Octavion searched Kira’s eyes for a moment,
then sighed deeply. “Are you well now?”

“I think so. You didn’t say
that
part
would hurt, only when I healed.”

He shook his head. “I did not know. When I
bound Serena to my sister, she did not feel pain, and the Crystor
did not change color or move on its own.”

Octavion stood and helped Kira to sit on the
bench. He took her right hand, pushed up the sleeve of her jacket,
and examined her wrist. It still held a faint red mark where she’d
first felt it burn. He brushed it with the tip of his finger.
“Perhaps its powers are stronger than before.”

Amidst the commotion, Altaria had switched
back to Lydia and managed to push herself to her knees, using the
crate for support. She clumsily stood, knocking the water basin
onto the ground and splashing both Octavion and Kira.

Octavion jumped back. “Blessed Zi’ah, Lydia!
What are you doing?”

She leaned over, holding her side. Fresh
blood soaked her oversized shirt. She glanced at the cave opening
before turning back to find her brother’s questioning eyes.

“Releasing you from your obligation,” she
whispered. Then she simply faded away, leaving a fine white mist in
her place.

Octavion dove at Altaria as she disappeared,
splitting the glowing mist of her wake. He plowed into the crate,
shattering it before extinguishing the one remaining candle with
the weight of his body. He landed hard in the rubble, let out a
fierce roar, then knocked the splintered pieces of wood out of the
way and jumped to his feet.

Kira stared at the place where Lydia once
stood, trying to figure out what happened. “How did she do that?”
When they’d disappeared in the forest, she thought it was her
imagination, but this time she knew what she saw was real. Lydia
had simply vanished. “Where did she go? W . . . why did she leave?”
Kira asked, her voice cracking on the last word.

Octavion took Kira’s arm and yanked her to
her feet. “To save
your
life,” he said as he pulled her
toward the opening. The instant they were free from the cave, he
tightened his grip on her arm and broke out into a run—taking one
step to her three.

“Where are you taking me?” she yelled,
digging the soles of her shoes in the dirt. She pulled back on her
arm, trying to get free. “Octavion, stop!”

“We must find her. She cannot be far. She had
little strength left.” He increased his speed, almost dragging her
behind him.

“Stop!” she pleaded. “I can’t go this fast.
You’re hurting my arm.”

Without missing a step, he pulled her to his
side, swung her around in front of him and hoisted her up over his
shoulder, clamping a strong arm around the back of her thighs. As
Kira struggled to hang on, he increased his speed, darting between
trees and over obstacles that stood in his way. The only thing
keeping her from bouncing off his shoulder was the death grip she
had on the back of his leather vest.

Kira.

Lydia’s voice seeped into Kira’s mind,
invading her thoughts.
A memory?
But it was so clear, as if
Lydia had whispered it in her ear. Kira tried to concentrate on
where it came from, but the pounding of Octavion’s footsteps
vibrating through her head made it impossible.

Kira, please go back!

The voice seemed more urgent this time and
now Kira was sure—it was in her head. She really was crazy.

“Octavion! Please, put me down. Something’s
wrong,” Kira begged, but he only increased his speed, this time
making their surroundings appear as a solid wall of pine bark and
vegetation.

“Stop!” she yelled, but he still paid no
attention.

Pulling up the back of his vest, Kira exposed
his rippling muscles and skin. With all her strength, she dug her
nails into his flesh and drew them upward. “Put. Me. Down!”

Octavion cursed in his foreign tongue as he
arched his back and slowed. Kira straightened her torso, pushed
away from his shoulder, and forced her knee into his ribs. He
released his grip on her legs and tossed her through the air. She
nearly hit a tree, landing in the dirt, square on her butt.

His eyes were on fire—yellow taking over the
darkness of the blue. Kira jumped to her feet just in time to get
out of his way. When he turned toward her again, she spun around to
run, but he grabbed her arm and twisted her to face him
instead.

“Stop it!” she begged. “This stupid bracelet
did something to my head. I can hear her.”

Kira’s words froze him in place. “You hear
her?” He brought his face down to meet hers and tightened his grip
on her arm. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know. But she’s calling my
name.”

He scanned the forest. “I hear nothing. I
have no time for games.” His jaw tightened as he let out a rumbling
noise that seemed to come from his gut.

“Idiot!” she yelled, trying to break loose.
“I can hear her voice in here.” She tapped the side of her head
with her index finger.

He released her and took a step back,
understanding making his eyes widen. “You can hear her thoughts?”
He rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “If you can
hear her, perhaps you can sense her presence as well.”

Kira, no.
The voice was barely a
whisper.

Octavion stepped closer and this time took
her gently by the arms. “You need to concentrate. We must find her
before it is too late.”

Kira pushed him away. She felt nauseated and
a bit disoriented as images of Lydia flashed through her mind.
Lydia lay on the ground, her eyes staring at the star-filled
sky—she wasn’t moving. She saw herself standing over Lydia—then she
became
her, feeling part of Lydia’s pain, hearing the sounds
Lydia heard and sensing Kira’s own presence just through the trees.
Kira followed her instincts, memorizing each minute detail of the
pathway between them until she stood next to herself, Octavion in
front of her. She took in a deep, quivering breath and shook off
the vision.

“I know where she is.” Kira followed the path
she’d memorized only seconds before, Octavion’s heavy footsteps
trailing behind her. She had only the glow of the crescent moon and
stars to light her path, but she sensed every rock and twig in her
way, stepping over and around each obstacle that stood between her
and Lydia. When Lydia came into view, Kira stopped and collapsed to
the ground. She was as Kira had seen her in her
mind—motionless—except her eyes were closed.

Octavion flew past Kira, falling to his knees
by Lydia’s side. “No!” His voice echoed through the trees, causing
an explosion of tiny birds to take to the sky. He pulled her
listless body into his arms and held her close.

They were too late.

Octavion’s body shook with each gut wrenching
sob. Kira envied the love he had for his sister. She’d never seen
anyone love like that, to be willing to sacrifice everything for
one person and spend their life protecting them as though nothing
else in the world mattered. She’d never allowed herself to hope for
that in her own life, not even from her mother.

She was so numb with grief that for a brief
moment, she let herself wonder what it would be like to have
Octavion love her like that—willing to protect her and risk
everything to keep her safe.

She was suddenly drawn into her own
fantasy—his warm embrace, seeing herself in the reflection of his
deep blue eyes—and his smile, the way he raised one brow while the
tiniest smirk bore dimples into the hollow of his cheeks. The
tenderness of his touch as he brushed her tears away. She longed to
be seen through the eyes of someone who was capable of loving like
that.

When Octavion called out Lydia’s name and
pledged his revenge to the heavens, Kira clamped her hands over her
ears and closed her tear-filled eyes. She’d seen things she could
never explain, felt things she’d never comprehend—but now in the
cold darkness of this place, it was all for nothing. Kira’s stomach
twisted into a knot as images flooded her mind again—memories of
Lydia and the times they’d spent together—each marking significant
milestones in their friendship. The thought of a life without Lydia
tore at Kira’s heart.

Lydia, I’m so sorry
. Kira had barely
thought the words when Lydia’s voice echoed through her mind
again.

Kira
.

Resisting the memory of Lydia’s voice, Kira
pulled her legs up and begged it to go away, to give her some peace
from her sorrow. A few seconds passed before a voice came again,
only this time it wasn’t Lydia. It held the accent of her kindred
spirit—Altaria.

Save her!

Kira searched the tree line, but the scene
before her hadn’t changed. No mysterious girl. No magical beast to
take away the pain. She forced the thoughts from her mind and wiped
her tears. What if she was wrong? What if there was still hope?

“
Go now!”

Altaria’s words rocked Kira to the core. She
pushed forward onto her knees and struggled to gain her balance and
stand. “Octavion!” she yelled as she ran to his side. Her call went
unanswered. As she grabbed his arm to get his attention, he turned
on her, grabbed the front of her jacket, and held her a few inches
away in his shaking fist.

“Leave us.” His voice shook with grief for
his sister.

Kira placed a trembling hand on his shoulder.
“I
still
hear her.”

His brow furrowed in confusion as he released
Kira and turned his attention back to Lydia. “But her heart . . .
it no longer beats.”

“Then how is she calling my name? Octavion,
please help me. Tell me what to do.”

Octavion jumped to his feet and disappeared
through the trees, leaving Kira alone with Lydia. It was as if the
magical charm around her wrist guided her hands, whispering to her
mind what to do next. She shrugged out of her jacket, rolled it
into a ball, and carefully placed it under Lydia’s head. Kira
pressed her ear to Lydia’s chest to listen for any sign of life.
She heard the faint whisper of a heartbeat. Lydia was still
alive.

Before Kira could check for a breath,
Octavion returned with a small satin pouch. He opened it and
removed the contents. On the end of a long silver chain hung a blue
glass bottle with a silver cap in the shape of a heart. It reminded
Kira of a perfume bottle she’d seen once in an antique store. He
glanced at Lydia’s lifeless body, then met Kira’s eyes.

“Take this,” he said. “You must move
quickly.”

As Kira grasped the container, he continued
his instructions. “Open it carefully. Place one drop on her lips—no
more.”